Myazda Brosca
by Bramblehorn
Summary: Little tid-bits of my Warden's journeys through Thedas. Chapters are not necessarily in order, though I'll try to put them in order. Most will be short, unless I'm struck with some crazy idea. Also this is my first fanfic... so I'm not sure how good it is. WARNING: There is so much fluff, you're liable to suffocate. Read at your own risk!
1. Strangers

Myazda gazed up at the... what were they? Ah! Clouds that had gathered above Ostagar. They were dark and swollen, almost greenish. She had heard that such clouds were ever present where darkspawn were during a Blight. It was unsettling.

"Can I ask you something?"

Myazda glanced up at the human she had just met, Alistair, she believed his name was. She had only just met him, but got the impression that he was odd even among his own kind. Not that that was entirely a bad thing, she rather liked his humorous outlook and friendly disposition. Though that one disdainful comment about another human, Daveth, being a cut-purse, and how he didn't really know what Duncan saw in him made her hesitant to reveal her own criminal nature to him, as she did not want to be judged according to that.

"You just did," she responded, tilting her head up at him.

He let out a snort, "Right, something other than that."

"Sure, go ahead. Not saying I'll answer though."

"Fair enough. I was just curious as to the marks on your face, do they mean something? The Dalish have marks that mean things, but I don't think your marks are quite the same."

"It does mean something, and it has nothing to do with gods. It is simply a way for other dwarves to know to avoid me. They really have a thing against casteless, you see," her tone was bitter as she spoke, and her mouth was twisted in distaste.

"Right, Duncan had mentioned something about that when he sent word ahead."

"What did he say, exactly?"

Alistair shrugged, "Nothing much really, just that you were in a tough situation, and you showed potential, potential that the other dwarves would never recognize because of your... caste."

Myazda glanced at him, "He didn't say anything else?"

"No... why?"

She glanced away, "No reason, just wanted to know how much you knew about me."

He squinted at her, "Riiight. You're hiding something."

She waved her hand dismissively, "Everyone's hiding something. I'm sure you've got a secret or two," she raised an eyebrow as he pursed his lips, "See? Maybe if we become something other than total strangers we can trade secrets like little children, hmm?"

Alistair let out a small chuckle, "Fair enough," he paused, "Have you ever been to the surface before?"

"No. Never."

"Is it strange?"

"Strange doesn't even begin to describe it. I nearly had a heart-attack when it rained on my way here. And the animals! There's really only nugs and the occasional bronto in Orzammar. I'd love to learn more about them. Deer in particular are gorgeous creatures," she gazed wistfully into the distance, seemingly lost in thought. After a moment however, she recovered, "Have you ever been to Orzammar?"

"I can't say I have."

"You're lucky. It's a horrible place. I don't ever want to go back," she refrained from saying, 'but I have to'. She had promised herself that once she earned some coin, she would see to it that Rica, and maybe even Leske, were well off.

"Is it that bad?"

"It was for me. Maybe the other castes have it good. I wouldn't know, they all refused to talk to me. Some even went so far as to call the guards if I got within a few feet of them," she muttered something exceedingly rude under her breath, before returning her gaze to Alistair with a smile.

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "That... that does sound pretty bad."

She sighed and looked away, "You get used to it. It's been really nice here though. Everyone looks at me with respect, and they don't talk down to me. It's weird. Almost as weird as not having a roof over your head."

Alistair grinned, "There a a few perks to being a Warden."

"Only a few?" Myazda returned the grin.

"Wardens do spend their lives battling the Blight, it's not all fun and games. Speaking of which, we really should go and see Duncan."

"That is probably a good idea."

"I've been told I'm full of those."

Myazda crossed her arms, "Really? By who? Yourself?"

"You're a mean dwarf, you know that?"

Myazda laughed and went to go see what Duncan wanted them to do.


	2. Bestiary

Myazda sat by the fire, leaning against the mabari, Bane, who was snoring lightly as she picked at her meal. Surface food was weird, but considerably more diverse (and plentiful) than what she'd been able to scrounge up in Orzammar.

Morrigan and the strange giant, Sten, had gone off to eat in isolation, and Leliana had decided that she would eat quickly today and scamper off to do... well Myazda didn't really know. Probably some praying or something.

That left her and Alistair.

It wasn't unusual for the two of them to end up eating together, considering that they had traveled to Lothering together, and Morrigan wasn't much of a socialite.

Over the weeks, Alistair had become more talkative, slowly crawling out of the pit of grief he had fallen into after Ostagar. He turned out to be quite the comedian, always ready to enter conversation with that goofy grin and some quip or corny joke. It was very entertaining and Myazda enjoyed his company. She hoped he enjoyed hers, she was after all, a criminal, but he didn't know that. She hoped he never would, she feared he might view her differently if he did.

After saying something that made Myazda roll her eyes and chuckle, he grabbed his pack, "Hey! Myazda. I almost forgot," he rummaged around in it before moving to sit next to her.

Myazda eyed him curiously, "What is it?"

He plopped down beside her, holding out a book with a snarling bear carved into the leather. He rubbed the back of his neck in what Myazda had come to know as his way of expressing nervousness, "You told me some time ago that you'd like to learn more about the surface, particularly the animals. I picked this up in Lothering, it's a Bestiary. I figured when you had some downtime, you might enjoy a little reading."

Myazda blinked slowly, her eyebrows raised, "I- that's... for me?"

"No it's for Bane. Of course it's for you silly!" Alistair gave her a lopsided grin and Myazda gingerly took the book, staring at it in awe.

'I'm... sorry. It's just... I'm not used to... receiving gifts. This is..." Myazda couldn't find the words to express the gratitude she felt. Or the shame.

She looked away.

Alistair peered at her, concern etched upon his face, "Is something wrong?"

Myazda sighed, avoiding his eyes, "I love it, honestly I do, thank you, but I-," she bit her lip and continued, "I can't read," she continued to avoid his gaze as she felt her cheeks heat up.

Alistair's eyebrows shot up, "Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't realize..." there was a moment of awkward silence before he continued, and even though she wasn't looking at him, she knew he was rubbing his neck, "I could, ah... teach you... if there's time. That is, ah, if- if you want," he averted his gaze as Myazda raised her eyes to look at his face.

"You would do that?" Myazda's eyes were wide with surprise.

"O-of course. Why wouldn't I?" Alistair was looking at her now.

"I-I don't know, I didn't think that-," she let out a breath, "Sorry, I'm just not used to people being so... nice."

Alistair's mouth crooked up in a half-grin, "Well, you'd best get used to it, I like to think I'm a pretty nice person," he glanced at Morrigan who was passing the fire, she shot him a glare, "Well, maybe not too used to it."

Myazda smiled at him, "I'll do my best."


	3. Gossip

Myazda sat by the fire, leaning against Bane and squinting at the Bestiary. Alistair had made good on his word, and began teaching her how to read. He insisted that she practice whenever she could, or she wouldn't get better. It was hard, but she was starting to be able to make out words in the Bestiary, though some of them were big and she had no idea what they meant. Occasionally she would ask Alistair or Leliana what they meant, but her pride kept her from doing that too often.

She finished the page she was on, and set the book aside, rubbing her eyes. She had been reading about mabari, and had learned some interesting things, but she decided it was time for a break.

She crossed her arms behind her head, intending to take a short nap before helping Alistair with dinner. As bad as he was at cooking, Leliana needed a break, and Myazda figured she may be able to help the rabbit retain some of it's flavor. She briefly glanced across the camp at Alistair sharpening his sword as Sten loomed over him.

"You know he likes you, yes?"

Myazda jumped as Leliana seated herself next to her, giving Bane a scratch behind the ears.

"I'm sorry?" Myazda gave the other woman a confused look.

A grin pulled at Leliana's lips, "Alistair, he likes you."

"Yes... we're friends," Myazda wasn't certain what she was getting at.

Leliana rolled her eyes, "Is the dwarven dialect so different? He's interested in you."

Myazda furrowed her brow, "Interested in...I...oh," Myazda widened her eyes at the realization and then gave Leliana a skeptical look, "That can't be right."

"Why not?"

"I'm- well me. A dwarf. A filthy casteless dwarf at that."

Leliana raised her eyebrows, "Race shouldn't matter."

"Many seem to think it does."

"Well Alistair certainly doesn't."

"And you're so certain because...?"

Leliana chuckled, "Are you so blind? He spends all his free time with you, he fixes your meals for you, he remembered an offhand comment about animals, bought you a book and is teaching you how to read! Not only that, but just yesterday he asked me for advice about a woman he was interested in, and I doubt he meant Morrigan," she crossed her arms and gave Myazda a knowing look.

The dwarf glanced again at Alistair, who was now talking to Sten, "You really think so?"

"I _know_ so. Why, is it a problem?"

"I- not exactly. I just don't really have experience in... that area. I've never had anyone _interested_ in me for non-physical reasons. I wouldn't know how to respond if he acted on these feelings you're so certain of," she paused, looking at Alistair again, "Are you sure?"

Leliana smiled, "If you could see the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is watching, you'd stop doubting me."

Myazda looked away, the color on her cheeks rising, "Why are you so interested anyway?"

"Because it's entertaining. And absolutely adorable."

Myazda gave her an unamused glare, "Well, if he really does feel that way- which I doubt- he will have to act on it. I certainly won't make a fool of myself jumping to conclusions."

Leliana glanced sideways, "Oh, you'll not have to wait much longer, I'm sure."

"Wait, what? What do you mean?"

"You'll see. It's really very sweet. You're very lucky."

"W-what?"

Leliana giggled and stood, walking off and leaving one bewildered dwarf staring after her.


	4. Handsome

Note: My take on one of the in-game conversations between the Warden and Alistair.

* * *

Alistair sat across the fire from Myazda, munching on bread while she enjoyed a mug of ale. Where the dwarf even got said ale was a mystery insofar as Alistair was concerned. The Redcliffe tavern maybe?

Myazda took a large swig of the ale as Leliana sat next to her, tuning her lute, and occasionally taking a bite of bread.

Wynne sat off to the side, reading _The Rose of Orlais_ , a book which Myazda had gifted to her upon her joining of the little band of misfits they had dragged together.

Myazda's eyes roved lazily around, and she swayed a bit. What was this? Her fifth mug? Alistair had to give the dwarf credit for being able to hold her alcohol.

Eventually, those roving eyes fell upon Alistair, and she took another draught of ale, before a drunken grin alighted her pale, round face.

"Sooo... Alistair. Has anyone... ever... told you... that you're handsome?"

Leliana's hand slipped and her lute emitted an awkward twang, and Alistair nearly choked on his bread while Wynne lowered her book slightly.

Alistair gave Myazda an incredulous stare, "You're... drunk."

She sniffed indignatly, "Am not. Answer the question."

Leliana giggled as Alistair blinked, "Not unless they were asking me for a favor. Well there was that one time in Denerim, but those women were..."he laughed awkwardly, "not like you," he paused, searching her face, and suddenly felt emboldened, "Why? Is this your way of telling me, _you_ , think I'm handsome?"

By this point Wynne had pretended to continue reading, and Leliana had hunched over her lute, pretending to ignore the conversation, though she was listening intently.

Myazda crossed her arms, sloshing some of the ale out of her mug, and playfully turned her face away from him, "My lips are sealed."

By this point Alistair had gathered that she was definintely drunk, but was having too much fun to end the conversation. He grinned, "Oh I get it. I'll get it out of you yet."

"What is this? You are flirting without me?" Zevran had wandered over, grinning wolfishly as he ladled some of the stew bubbling over the fire into a bowl, "I must say, dear wardens, I am hurt."

Alistair scowled at him, and muttered, "You're about to be."

"Ah, so you're the jealous type, I see. I shall leave you to your flirting then. I'm sure I can rely upon Leliana to inform of all the details, yes?'

Leliana looked at him, expressionless, "I don't think Alistair would appreciate that. Nor Myazda when she sobers," she glanced at the dwarf who was utterly ignoring everybody but Alistair, resting her chin on her hand as she stared at him with hooded eyes, and smiled despite herself.

"No? Ah well. I suppose I shall have to find something else to entertain me," Zevran turned and left, chuckling quietly.

Alistair returned his attention to Myazda, "Look, Myazda, as much as I've enjoyed our little chat, you should probably give the ale a rest."

Myazda took another sip of the drink, "Nah."

"You are going to have a terrible hangover tomorrow, and we've got a lot of traveling to do," Alistair raised an eyebrow at her as she rolled her eyes and nearly toppled over.

Leliana gently took the mug from Myazda's hands, the dwarf offered little resistance, "I think Alistair is right, perhaps you should..." she trailed off as the dwarf slumped forward and reached to grab her as she began to slide from her seat.

Leliana smirked, "Clearly, our wonderful leader here needs some help getting to her tent, would you like to help her, Alistair?"

Alistair's eyes widened and his face flushed a deep red, "N-no, no, I'm sure you can do that," he coughed, "Oh! Look at the time, I've got to... uh- polish my armor! Yes, ah, see you tomorrow!" he hurriedly stood and rushed off, leaving a chuckling Wynne and Leliana behind to care for the drunken dwarf.

* * *

Myazda awoke the next morning with a dull ache pressing into her skull from all sides.

She groaned and rolled over, "Sodding swill. Why do I keep drinking it?" she grumbled.

She sighed, and pushed herself up, grabbing her armor and strapping it before exiting her tent and breaking it down.

The party ate breakfast and quickly got underway towards the Brecillian forest.

Myazda moved up to walk beside Alistair as she usually did.

He glanced at her and grinned wickedly, "Sooo... now that you're sober _do_ you think I'm handsome?"

Myazda choked, "I'm sorry, what?"

He crossed his arms smugly, "Oh nothing, it's just that you get a bit... talkative... when you've had a few drinks."

Myazda's cheeks reddened.

"And you become very... flirty," his grin widened as Myazda's blush spread further.

She cleared her throat, "I take it, I um, made a comment on you being- ah, attractive then?" Myazda had never felt so embarrassed in her life. That's it. She was never drinking again. Ever.

 _At least he's not upset about it. Or freaked out._

"You did. Though, you never actually told me so. You're a decent flirt, you know," he paused and glanced at her. She was so red, he feared that if she blushed any further she might bleed, "And now that I've made you blush to the point of danger, I'd like to let you know that I'm just teasing you. You were drunk. We all say foolish things when we're drunk. I won't get too excited."

Myazda took a deep breath, "And sometimes the drunk are more inclined towards truth," she squeezed her eyes shut and opened them, "and now that I've said that, do you see a hole anywhere, I think I want to die in it."

Alistair was taken aback, "So you... actually think I'm handsome?"

Myazda had recovered somewhat and gave him a mischievous look, "Didn't you say I never actually told you?"

"Well, yes but..."

"So then what would be the fun in telling you now?" she smirked.

"Oh I don't know, I think it'd be pretty fun for me."

Myazda rolled her eyes, "I think you've had you're fill of fun making me blush."

Alistair huffed, "I suppose you're right," he paused, giving her a look, "But I swear to the Maker, I'll get it out of you eventually."


	5. Rain

_Partially my take on an in-game conversation. Enjoy! (Apparently I accidentally cut off the beginning, I fixed it now.)_

* * *

The rain began pouring harder as Myazda ducked inside the tent she was sharing with Leliana.

Before Zevran had joined the party, everyone had had their own tent, but Myazda and Leliana had both opted to give up their personal space, until they could buy or make another tent, so the others might have their privacy. It was really the only option, and she and Leliana got along so well that it was hardly a hassle.

As Myazda towled herself off, she noted that the bard was fiddling with something on the cieling of the tent.

"Whatcha doin right there?" Myazda asked, eyeing the bard curiously.

Leliana let out a sigh and dropped her hands, and immediately water began dripping into their tent from a very large hole, "Vainly attempting to fix this tear. It is difficult to mend things when they are wet, you know."

Myazda scooted away from the miniature waterfall, only to feel droplets of water trickling down her neck from another hole, this one unseen. She pinched her nose, "Well. Isn't this sodding fantastic?"

Leliana chuckled, "I fear we might have to move in with some of the others," suddenly, her eyes took on a mischievous light, "why don't you go ask Alistair if he'd be willing to share his tent with you until this rain stops? I am sure he wouldn't mind."

Myazda glared at her and wiped water off of her brow, "Why don't you do that?"

"Because I'm going to ask Wynne if she would be so kind as to share her tent. Unless you want to sit in a small space with Zevran or Sten for an uncertain amount of time, I think Alistair is your best option," Leliana smirked and folded her arms across her chest.

"You seem to have forgotten Morrigan," Myazda tried to move away from the puddling water, but there wasn't much of a place to go.

Leliana rolled her eyes, "Oh please. You may be friends with her, but you know how she is about her space, and she is halfway across camp. Alistair is a few steps away. But do as you will, I'm going to join Wynne."

Leliana grabbed her things and ducked out of the tent, into the pouring rain, and left Myazda to mull over her options as more water puddled into the small space. The dwarf let out a frustrated sigh and began gathering her things. That bard could be so irritating at times.

She stepped outside, cursing the surface and it's falling water, before dashing over to Alistair's tent, splashing through multiple puddles that she had been unable to see.

She awkwardly cleared her throat, "Umm... Alistair?"

He drew his tent flap to the side, giving her an incredulous look, "Maker's breath, woman! I know you're new to the surface and all, but surely you know to get out of the rain!"

"That's why I'm here actually... our tent has a tear in it... and..." she trailed off as thunder crackled, causing her to jump.

"Yes, of course! Well don't just stand there," he held the tent flap open for her and she gratefully ducked in.

She was greeted by Bane, who leapt up and enthusiastically began licking her face. She giggled and scratched his ears, "That's enough now." The mabari barked and then settled down, though he still panted happily and his tail nub wiggled madly.

Myazda set her things down and wrung her hair out, taking it out of it's usual bun and letting it fall to her waist.

"You are absolutely soaked, here," he handed her a towel which she gratefully accepted and began drying herself.

"Thanks for letting me join you," after she finished drying herself as best she could, the dwarf began to organize her things and grabbed her blanket, wrapping herself snugly before plopping down on the ground and leaning against Bane.

"Not a problem, I couldn't leave a lady out in the rain, now could I?" he moved a lantern over before seating himself across from Myazda and began cleaning his sword.

Myazda drew in a breath, and let it out slowly, ignoring the odd look Alistair gave her, and fished out the bestiary from her pack. She settled herself more comfortably against Bane and began reading.

This entry was about halla. The depictions of them in this book were magnificent, and she desperately wanted to meet one, but had decided that they ought to travel to Orzammar before visiting the Dalish. It was closer, and Myazda really wanted to check up on Rica and Leske. And her mother too, she supposed. Before they could do any of that however, there was still the matter of the arl's son, which they were on their way to resolve, now with the Circle's help. They should be able to get there by the next day, if this rain would let up.

She was beginning to have some trouble. For the most part, she was a fast learner and had picked up on a great deal of the words after a few weeks of Alistair's diligent teachings, with a few lessons from Wynne here and there. But every once in awhile, she found herself struggling.

The dwarf lowered her book, and looked over at Alistair. Just as she often did, she noted that he _really was_ handsome. She still refused to tell him though.

"Alistair?"

He looked up at her, brow wrinkled, waiting for her to continue, "Uh, I'm having a bit of trouble. Could you help me, please? I- if you don't mind of course. You seem busy."

Alistair set his sword and rag down with a grin, "I am never too busy to help a damsel in distress. Besides, cleaning weapons is dull work."

Myazda let out a snort, "You might need to be sharpening it instead of cleaning it then."

"Oh hardy-har. Look at you, getting all clever," he seated himself beside her, "So what is making this damsel so distressed?"

Myazda rolled her eyes and pointed to a difficult passage on the page with many of what she assumed were elvish words. Alistair patiently read along with her, helping her to identify words and explaining their meanings. Eventually they fell into comfortable silence, well, as silent as it could be with a storm raging outside, and read along together for quite some time.

Eventually, her eyes began to ache and she decided she needed a break. Myazda paused and looked up from her reading to find Alistair giving her a curious look. She raised an eyebrow, "Is there something on my face?"

His cheeks colored and he hurriedly looked away, "Wha- no, no. I'm just... glad you like the book is all."

Myazda found herself being reminded of Leliana's assertions. She did her best to quell those thoughts and set her book down, crossing her arms, "Is that really all?"

"I-well... yes- no... I ummm..." he rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his. She found it quite endearing.

"I think we've already established that I don't bite, Alistair, but," she held her hands up, "you don't have to tell me," she picked up her book again.

Alistair let out a short laugh, "You may not bite, but that doesn't make you any less scary."

"Scary, am I? I do hope it's my skills as a warrior you speak of and not my appearance or my personality," she grinned wolfishly, and tried to be menacing.

Alistiar rolled his eyes, "Of course I don't mean your appearance or personality, both of which are quite nice I assure you, but you are quite terrifying when you're mad."

Myazda's grin widened, "Good. That's exactly how it should be."

"Yes, well," he cleared his throat, "just don't ever use that hammer on me, please."

Myazda chuckled and joked, "Well if you keep staring at me, I just might have to."

"Right. Anyways. I uh, have something for you. Been meaning to give it to you for awhile, actually... the time just... never seemed right... I suspect there probably isn't really a right time anyhow," he chuckled nervously, "but-."

"You are awfully anxious, aren't you?" Myazda observed, laying her book across her lap, and raising an eyebrow.

"A little bit, yes," he took a deep breath and stood, walking over to his things and rummaging around for a second before coming back over to her, sitting down, and producing a beautiful flower with velvety red petals.

"Here, look at this. Do you know what this is?" he handed it to her and she took it delicately, examining it.

"Uhm, a flower. I'm not sure what type though. It's beautiful," Myazda looked up at him, waiting for more explanation.

"It's a rose," he took a deep breath and continued, "I picked it in Lothering. I remember thinking 'How could something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair and ugliness?'"

He paused briefly, trying to read the expression on Myazda's face and continued, "I probably should have left it alone, but I couldn't. The darkspawn would come and their taint would just destroy it. So I've... had it ever since."

Myazda grinned, "That's very poetic Alistair, I didn't know you had it in you."

"Ha well, I'm just bursting with surprises," he paused again and then continued, "I thought I might give it to you, actually. In a lot of ways, I think the same thing when I look at you," his voice had softened at this point, and he averted his gaze slightly, as if fearful of her response.

Myazda's eyes widened and she blinked several times, "I...I don't know what to say."

By the ancestors, Leliana had been right! Myazda was in such a state of shock that she could barely do anything but stare dumbfounded at Alistair as he continued.

He completely looked away, "I guess it's a bit silly, isn't it? i just thought... here I am doing all this complaining, and you haven't exactly had a good time of it yourself. You've had none of the good experience of being a Grey Warden since your Joining, not a word of thanks or congratulations. It's all been death and fighting and tragedy," he looked up and smiled slightly, "I thought maybe I could say something. Tell you what a rare and wonderful thing you are to find amidst all this... darkness."

Myazda felt her face split into a smile, and had the most warm, wonderful feeling in her chest. Myazda raised an eyebrow, "So... are we married now?"

He laughed and seemed to gain a little confidence, crossing his arms, "You won't land me that easily, woman! I know I'm quite the prize after all, no need to start crying on me or anything."

She rolled her eyes and his smile faded slightly, "I guess it was, uh, just a stupid impulse. I don't know, was it the wrong one?"

Myazda looked down at the rose and then back up at Alistair, "No. Not at all. I think... I think this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you Alistair."

He seemed relieved, "I'm glad you like it. Now... if we could move on right past this awkward, embarassing stage and get right to the steamy bits, I'd appreciate it," his relief evaporated almost as soon as he said that, and he immediately became flustered.

Myazda crossed her arms and cocked her head, "And you were doing so well, too."

"Oh? Your loss then. All the ladies go on and on about how suave I am. I don't know how you can resist me like you do."

Myazda could not keep herself from laughing, "What ladies? Did Morrigan finally come 'round? Or was it Wynne?"

His face was just about as red as the rose, "You're a mean dwarf."

"Obviously not too mean," she paused and gently laid the rose aside before throwing her arms around Alistair in a rib-crushing hug. He seemed surprised, but quickly returned the gesture.

Myazda hadn't felt this happy in... she didn't know how long. Maybe she had never been this happy.

She drew back and resumed her position leaning against Bane, picking up the rose as she did so. She looked at it, a look of pure bliss on her face, "This means a lot to me Alistair. I- I can hardly explain it... just... thank you."

He now had the goofiest smile plastered on his face, a smile which only served to make him that much more attractive, "Anything for you, m'lady."


	6. Cough

_Very, very short, but I thought it was a cute idea._

* * *

Myazda sat in front of the fire, a blanket over her shoulders and a bowl of soup in her hands. She set the soup down, leaning back against Bane and let out a hacking cough. He gave a worried whine and she patted him reassuringly. Stupid rain, making her sick. She sniffed and pulled her blanket more tightly about herself before picking up her rose and absentmindedly twirling it with a contemplative expression.

He would come back. They all would. It should be simple enough, and Wynne was a powerful mage. She trusted her to free the boy from the demon. And in the event she couldn't, well, that's why Leliana, Alistair, and Sten had accompanied her. Myazda still hated not being able to be there. She _should_ be there. She was _fine_ , honestly. But everyone had insisted that she get some rest. They told her she couldn't afford to be ill once they reached Orzammar. They were right of course, but it didn't make her any less irritated.

The dwarf looked up as Morrigan took a seat beside her on a tree stump. The Circle didn't trust the woman as far as they could throw her, and she had indicated that the feeling was mutual, so she had stayed behind.

The witch raised an eyebrow at her, "You do realize that you have been paying that flower an absurd amount of attention?"

Myazda smiled, still looking at the flower, "Have I? I hadn't noticed."

Morrigan rolled her eyes, "I think that your time would be better served by eating and resting, rather than mooning over that fool."

Myazda laid the flower aside, grinning, "So you do care. I'm touched," she picked up her soup bowl and made a great display of eating.

"Touched... can mean many things. One of which is crazy. So I am inclined to agree. You are, after all bedding that moron, Alistair," Morrigan replied, crossing her arms.

Myazda reddened slightly and smiled sweetly, "I am _not_. We haven't done... that. Nor am I certain that we will."

Morrigan raised her brow, "Truly? What other reason is there for you to bother with him? Do not tell me it is for the conversation?"

Myazda let out a dry chuckle, and regretted it when it sent her into a coughing fit , "Must," she coughed once more, "...you always be so critical of him? He really is quite sweet. Besides, haven't you and I already had a very similar conversation about this?"

Morrigan gave her a mildly disgusted look, "I am merely stating things as I see them. Tis simply difficult for me to wrap my head around, I suppose."

Myazda tilted her head and took on a mischievous air, "Sounds to me like you're jealous," she knew very well that this was far from the truth, but found amusement in poking the witch. It was only fair after all, for all the insults Morrigan threw her way.

Morrigan let out a sharp laugh and uncrossed her arms, "Now there's a foolish notion if I ever heard one," she paused for a moment and something in her face changed, "Might I examine your precious rose for a moment, Myazda?"

The dwarf furrowed her brow but obliged. She trusted that Morrigan was not so cruel as to destroy it. The witch took the flower gently and scrutinized it. It had begun to sag and it's color fade. Morrigan sighed and swiftly waved a hand over it, suceeding in looking inconvenienced as she did so, and a green light emanated from the flower before it perked up and regained it's vibrancy.

She handed it back to Myazda who was at a loss for words. The witch crossed her arms again, "A simple preservation spell, since it seems to mean so much to you," Morrigan had lost some of her cool confidence and Myazda could tell that the mage was a bit flustered.

"I- thank you Morrigan. I really appreciate it," the dwarf held the flower to her nose and smiled.

"Don't read too much into it. Tis more to save me from hearing you complain when it dies, than anything else," her head was turned away, but Myazda could see that she was smiling. When she looked back however, her face had returned to its mask of coolness, "If you'll excuse me," she stood and straightened her clothing, "I must go study Mother's grimoire," she strode off and Myazda smiled after her.

The dwarf supposed this little gesture was her way of apologizing for constantly berating Alistair, and sometimes even Myazda herself. The dwarf had to admit, Morrigan was exceedingly troublesome to deal with at times, but she wasn't all that bad once you got to know her.

Myazda coughed again, set the rose down, set her soup bowl on her lap, and resumed eating, smiling all the while.


	7. Past

_Partly a take on an in-game conversation. Also it's trash. I'm trash. Someone send help. Probably a few weeks after he gave her the rose, I'm not to sure about my timeline, honestly. Anyways, enjoy! Or be disgusted, it's up to you. :)_

* * *

With each step drawing the party closer and closer to Orzammar, Myazda grew more and more nervous. She knew she should tell them. She knew she should. But what was she supposed to say? "Hey guys, I thought I should let you know that I was thug in a gang, ha ha, isn't that great?"

She massaged her temples and looked up at the sky, something that only a few months ago made her intensely nauseous. The sun was beginning to set and everyone seemed exhausted. They had covered a fair distance today, and slain a band of darkspawn. She thought now was as good a time as any to start looking for suitable camping grounds.

It wasn't much further along that they found a copse of trees a ways away from the road that would keep prying eyes at bay and would probably allow them to collect firewood with ease.

The group began pitching camp, the sun having gone down by the time they were done. Leliana had gotten a spit set up and was turning several pheasants they had bagged earlier in the day. Myazda's mouth watered at the smell. Even Morrigan's vegetables and roots looked unusually appetizing today. Her stomach growled. Zevran looked over at her, a playful smirk that was ever prevalent twisting his lips, "I take it our excursions today have worked up your appetite, yes?"

Myazda rolled her eyes, "You can't tell me you're not hungry."

"You would be quite right, I cannot. In fact, I am quite famished, but we assassins, being trained in the art of stealth, are much quieter about it," He deftly dodged a piece of wood Myazda half-heartedly hurled at him with a chuckle, "You may wish to work on your aim, dear warden. I know, I know you must be thinking, 'How would I ever be able to hit an elf as swift, and cunning as you Zevran? Even with all the training in the world?' I do not know the answer to that, but I encourage you to keep trying anyways," as he took a mocking bow, a stick hit him square in the head. He let out a laugh as Myazda smirked, "You train very fast indeed, Lady Brosca."

Myazda shook her head, "You know for someone I felled with one hammer blow, you sure are cocky."

He dramatically clutched at his heart, "Your scathing words wound me so."

Myazda let out a chuckle, "You're lucky I'm tired, or I might fell you again," she said and began walking towards Leliana as the bard pulled the birds off of the spit and began cutting them up. Myazda offered to help, and soon, supper was ready and, oddly enough, everyone sat down around the fire together. The dwarf was seated next to Alistair, with Bane at her feet, tearing into a haunch of venison, saved specially for him. She knew better than to pet him while he was eating, even though she sorely wanted to. The dog always made her feel better, and right now, she desperately wanted her queasy stomach to settle.

After everyone was mostly done and chatting companionably, Myazda took a deep breath and steeled herself, earning her a curious look from Alistair, "Are you alright, Myazda?"

She let out the breath, "We're about to find out," she dared not look at him, or think of what he might think of her when she had said what she had to say. What if he resented her? He had disapproved of Daveth, and certainly wasn't fond of Zevran. What if he thought of her as a good for nothing crook? No. Stop. They needed to know.

She cleared her throat, causing everyone to look up at her, which in turn made her face heat up with nervousness, "Umm, since we're almost to Orzammar, I thought it might be time to explain some things about… about me. I just don't want anyone to be surprised when we get there is all," she paused and willed herself to continue, "Umm, you all know that I am- was - a casteless dwarf, no better than vermin, and treated worse. What… what you may not know – or maybe you guessed- was that as a casteless dwarf, there's… there's only so many ways to put food on the table. Pretty much begging, stealing, or… working for the carta. I… I worked for the Carta," she stopped as she noticed the confused looks of her companions, "The Carta is a large criminal organization that holds a lot of power in Orzammar. We- they- do some… well you can imagine. We didn't have much of a choice, my sister, Rica, and I. We were forced to work for them because of my mother… she had a debt she couldn't pay, and pretty much sold us to them," she paused again, not sure what reaction to expect, "I… I hope this doesn't change anyone's opinion of me, I'm not proud of what I did… but," she was cut off by Zevran.

"You did what you had to, in order to survive, we could hardly blame you for it," he looked at her seriously, but kindly, and took a sip of water.

Leliana nodded in agreement, "Your past isn't important, unless you make it so. Everyone can find redemption in the Maker, after all, I didn't exactly live the most enchanted life before I came to the Chantry."

"I agree with them, save for the bit about the Maker. You survived, and that is what matters," Morrigan replied, looking as aloof as ever.

Sten simply nodded, as did Wynne, who also offered a smile, and Alistair put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "Don't worry so much, you've more than proven yourself to all of us," she looked up at him and he smiled, causing Myazda to relax a bit.

Even Bane had something to add, briefly looking up from his meal to lick her face a few times. The dwarf giggled and scratched his ears. He let out a happy woof, before returning to the deer haunch.

She wiped her face and said, "I just thought you should all know that before we went into the city. Might be important."

They all cleaned and packed up the dishes, and let the fire die down to embers with a small flicker here and there. Alistair volunteered for first watch, and Myazda decided to stay up with him, not really feeling like sleeping, despite her exhaustion.

Myazda leaned against a snoring Bane, and was reading her Bestiary. Alistair sat nearby, poking the fire with a bored look on his face. Myazda found it very difficult to focus on her book. She still feared that he thought worse of her now, and the others, what if they hadn't been telling the truth? She closed her eyes and let out an angry sigh. They had no real reason to lie, did they?

He noticed her frustration and, and turned his gaze to her, "Is a passage giving you trouble?"

She gripped the book more tightly, forced a smile, and shook her head, "No, it's nothing. I'm fine."

He raised an eyebrow, "I have a feeling that's not quite true. What's bothering you?"

"It's nothing, really," she lied, avoiding his gaze.

"Is this about earlier?" he waited for her response, which did not come. He stood and closed the distance between the two of them, seating himself closer to her and putting a hand on her shoulder, "Myazda. I told you, you've more than proven yourself to us, to me. You may have done some unfortunate things in the past, but haven't we all? I still-," he stopped himself, seeming a bit flustered, before continuing, "I don't think any less of you. You are a wonderful woman, and the Maker himself couldn't make me think otherwise," he gazed intently at her, and she looked away, trying to prevent the tears in her eyes from falling. Sod it all, she was such a cry baby. A handsome man says one nice thing to her and she's reduced to tears.

Fortunately Bane's rhythmic breathing calmed her, and she was able to return her gaze to Alistair, face unstained by tears, "Thank you, and, I- I'm sorry, I'm sure I'm being really annoying right now."

He looked at her incredulous, "Annoying is the last word I'd use to describe you. I think the words charming and brilliant fit much better," he dropped his hand with a grin, and Myazda could not help but mirror his expression, her cheeks heating up at his compliments.

"Thank you, Alistair," she giggled slightly and tried to return to her book, but still found it difficult to focus with her face all hot and Alistair so close. He had returned his gaze to the fire, looking less bored and more contemplative.

They sat listening to the crickets, frogs, and quiet popping of the embers, Alistair's words having assuaged all of her concerns, but also setting her mind on a whole other mess of thoughts and emotions, most of which had to do with him.

Eventually, the silence was broken as Alistair tossed a stick into the embers and he said, "So, all this time we've spent together… you know: the tragedy, the brushes with death, the constant battles with the whole Blight looming over us," he looked over at her, a lopsided grin on his face, "will you miss it once it's over?"

Myazda smiled, running a finger down the page of her book, and cast him a sidelong glance, "I tear up just thinking about it."

He let out a small chuckle and gazed up through the overhang of trees at the stars, "There'll be no more running for our lives, no more darkspawn," he paused looking around at the camp, "ugh, no more camping in the middle of nowhere."

Myazda raised an inquisitive eyebrow, "Not a fan of camping are we?"

"Ha! With all of the bugs and creepy crawlies? Not likely," he paused, his grin fading, "I know it… might sound strange, considering we haven't known each other for very long, but I've come to… care for you…a great deal," he looked at the ground, trying to gather his thoughts, as Myazda watched curiously, "I think maybe it's because we've gone through so much together," he seemed flustered now, and rubbed the back of his neck, "I don't know. Or maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe I'm fooling myself," he brought his gaze back to hers, nervously wringing his hands, "Am I? Fooling myself? Or do you think you might ever… feel the same way about me?"

Myazda looked up at him, her mouth parted slightly. It seemed she wasn't the only one with doubts about the other's thought of her, despite all evidence to the contrary.

His brow was slightly furrowed, and his warm amber gaze intent on her cloudy gray one. She was at a loss of words for a moment, before she recovered and quietly replied, "I- I think I already do."

The concern flew from his face, replaced by a reassured smile. He lifted his hand to her chin and slowly tilted her head up toward him, "So I fooled you did I? Good to know."

Their faces were so close, and she couldn't help but notice how tender and loving his gaze was before her eyes were shut and their lips met. Myazda's heart fluttered violently in her chest. She placed her hand at the base of his neck and pressed herself against him, as he caressed her face and brought his other hand to the small of her back. Every nerve, every fear, every bad thought melted away from her in that perfect moment.

Slowly, reluctantly, they pulled away from each other, Myazda breathless, and Alistair looking slightly nervous again, "That… that wasn't too soon, was it?"

Myazda blinked a few times and breathlessly replied, "No. Not really," her voice squeaked slightly and she cleared her throat, a goofy smile plastered across her face, "I liked it."

Alistair beamed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "Good, I'll take that as a good sign."

He took a breath, shaking his head slightly as he looked at her, is eyes roving over her face, "Maker's breath, but you're beautiful. I am a lucky man."

Myazda felt the tears come back- sod her stone-cursed feminine emotions- and put her hand against Alistair's face, "And I a lucky woman." They regarded each other for a moment, completely taken, before their lips met again and Myazda was reduced to jelly. His body was warm and solid, and his mouth soft. She felt like she could lose herself entirely in this man. A shiver climbed up her spine as Alistair pulled back, and her breath caught in her throat when their lips parted. The dwarf attempted to get her breathing under control as she gazed adoringly up at Alistair's face, trying to take in every detail, to immortalize this moment in her memory.

With a contented sigh, she laid her head on his chest, snuggling as close as she could, her eyes still on his handsome face. Never, never had she ever hoped to have something like this back in Orzammar, not in her wildest dreams.

He wrapped an arm around her and leaned back against Bane, taking one of her hands into his free one. Curled up against his warm body, and soothed by his heartbeat, she found her eyes drooping. She struggled to stay awake, while Alistair smirked, "You don't have to stay awake with me you know. You can go back to your tent," they had been able to repair the holes in her tent a week or so ago, and Myazda didn't tell anyone, but she had been a bit disappointed when they had. Leliana could tell, and it made the bard almost insufferably smug.

She smiled, "I'm plenty comfortable right here."

His smirk widened, "Well then, go ahead and get some rest."

The dwarf let out a hum and let her eyes fall closed. She opened them briefly as Alistair draped his cloak over her, and then they fell shut again and she drifted off into a blissful, dreamless sleep.


End file.
